


leave this dress a mess on the floor

by pageleaf



Category: The Queen's Thief - Megan Whalen Turner
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Begging, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, Explicit Consent, Lingerie, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-22 01:06:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7412485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pageleaf/pseuds/pageleaf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Costis shudders, finally dragging his eyes away from the little pile at the edge of the bed—stockings and panties, black sheer silk and red lace that Irene had paid for, blank-faced, and Gen had carried out of the store, grinning.</p>
<p>They’d presented it to Costis as soon as he came home, and he stared, wide-eyed and wanting, like he’d forgotten he mentioned it the previous week when they’d all been a little drunk on wine and each other. He may have forgotten, but neither Irene nor Gen had.</p>
            </blockquote>





	leave this dress a mess on the floor

**Author's Note:**

> jesus christ i can't believe i actually wrote this. congrats, qt fandom, you made me write actual porn for the first time!!!
> 
> based off [this ask](http://pageleaf.tumblr.com/post/145068396579/wait-consider-this-costis-in-lingerie) a wild mysterious anon sent me a couple months ago. i had forgotten about it, but i was going through my qt tag and found it again and was STRUCK BY INSPIRATION (and also plalligator peer-pressured me a little).
> 
> thank you forever to plalligator and grim_lupine, as always, for handholding and betaing and enabling <333 love u the most
> 
> title is from leslie odom jr.'s cover of selena gomez's "good for you," feat. daveed diggs. i listened to that song on repeat while writing this.

“Still fine?” Gen asks, concern coloring his voice. It seems like forever since Costis last breathed, and from behind, Gen can’t see his expression.

Costis nods jerkily and exhales in a rush. Gen watches, riveted, as a flush blooms in his cheeks, slowly spreading to the back of his neck. Definitely fine, then. A blush like that has only ever meant good things.

But Irene is a more careful lover, so she asks, from the bed, “Costis?”

“I’m fine,” Costis says, a little hoarse. “I’m—more than fine.”

Gen feels Irene’s ensuing smile down to his toes, as she murmurs out, “That’s good.” He can only imagine how Costis feels.

“Costis,” he says carefully. “Since you’re fine, why don’t we start with getting your shirt off?”

Costis shudders, finally dragging his eyes away from the little pile at the edge of the bed—stockings and panties, black sheer silk and red lace that Irene had paid for, blank-faced, and Gen had carried out of the store, grinning.

They’d presented it to Costis as soon as he came home, and he stared, wide-eyed and wanting, like he’d forgotten he mentioned it the previous week when they’d all been a little drunk on wine and each other. He may have forgotten, but neither Irene nor Gen had.

Now, in the moment, Costis must still be a little stunned, because he blinks at Gen uncomprehendingly, wets his lips, and says, “What?”

“Take off your shirt,” Irene says, so Gen doesn’t have to repeat himself.

Costis swallows audibly and pulls his t-shirt off in one swift motion. Graceful, but accidentally, which is him in a nutshell. Gen notices idly that the blush has made its way to the top of Costis’s chest, and that his nipples are beginning to harden in the cool air of the bedroom.

“Too cold?” Gen says, the concern in his voice now all teasing. Irene rolls her eyes, but Costis shakes his head absently.

“No, it’s fine,” he says, and looks to Irene this time. “What next?”

“Pants,” Gen answers for her, leaning forward in his chair. They like to do this: trading off, playing off each other like a dance specifically choreographed to keep Costis on his toes. It works, because Costis looks just a little bit overwhelmed as he pushes his jeans over his hips and steps out of them, glancing at one of them every few seconds.

When the jeans are off, he’s left standing there in just his boxers, breathing a little too quickly to be controlled. Gen takes a moment to just look at him, and he can tell from the silence that Irene is doing the same. “Beautiful,” he says, letting his eyes travel from Costis’s mouth to his shoulders to his thighs.

Costis gasps and shuts his eyes, shivers faintly. Irene takes the opportunity to catch Gen’s eye and smile. They’ve got him.

Gen pauses a moment to evaluate. He’s sitting on top of his desk, across the room from the bed, where Irene sits; Costis is standing in the center of the room, caught between the two of them. He hums to himself. Where to go from here...

He catches sight of the t-shirt and jeans lying forlorn at Costis’s feet. He grins. Perfect.

“Costis,” he chides, “are you really going to just leave your clothes there?” He stops smiling and schools his face into an expression of faint disapproval. It takes a surprising amount of effort.

Immediately, Costis’s eyes fly open and he looks down at his feet. “Oh,” he says. “No, I’ll—” He looks around.

Gen takes pity on him. “Why don’t you fold them and set them on the desk?”

Costis bends down and pulls the shirt off the ground. Gen glances conspicuously at his ass and waggles his eyebrows at Irene. She stifles a laugh.

When the shirt is folded—Costis takes his time to make sure he’s doing it neatly. Gen is impressed—and the jeans are as well, Costis walks over to Gen and pauses.

Gen pats the space right next to him on the desk. “Right here.” He smiles at Costis, a smile which only grows wider as Costis bites his lip and looks away. His ears are red; Gen is entranced.

Costis leans in to set the clothes on the desk, but before he can pull away, Gen catches his elbow. “Ah, not so fast. Come here.” He tugs Costis forward until he’s standing between his legs. “You did a good job with that. Do you want a kiss?”

“Yes, please,” Costis says, leaning forward, bracing himself with an arm on either side of Gen’s body. Gen guides him down with a hand to the back of his neck and kisses him, open-mouthed and heated. He reaches down with his other hand to thumb over Costis’s collarbone. Costis must be getting sensitive already, because he gives a tiny, startled moan that escapes into the kiss. So worked up, and they haven’t even gotten to the main event yet.

Gen pulls back, breathing a little heavily himself. Costis rests his forehead on Gen’s shoulder and trembles. “Still okay?” Gen checks.

“Still okay,” Costis confirms, and Gen kisses his temple.

“You’re doing very well,” he says. He looks across the room to Irene, and she gives a little nod of approval. _What now?_ he mouths, and she looks meaningfully at Costis’s boxers, still woefully on his body. A terrible oversight on Gen’s part.

“I think Irene would like it very much if we took these off,” Gen says, plucking at the elastic waistband. “You have a much nicer pair to put on, don’t you?”

Costis breathes in shakily and pulls away. He takes the boxers off, and at a look from Gen, folds them as well and puts them on top of the clothes on the desk.

“Much better,” Gen sighs, and slides a possessive hand down Costis’s hip and back, skimming lightly over his ass. He bypasses his cock, which is, predictably, already hard and leaking.

Costis bites back a noise, and Gen doesn’t hide his grin, this time. He draws his hand up to the center of Costis’s chest and shoves lightly, giving himself room to hop off the desk. “We’ve kept my wife waiting long enough, don’t you think?” He pulls Costis by the hand and leaves him standing at the foot of the bed.

“About time,” Irene says, scooting over so Gen can climb on. “Now,” and she looks to the edge of the bed. “Shall we start with the panties?”

Gen hums in agreement, leaning into Irene’s left side. She rests her hand lightly on his knee and strokes over it once with her thumb, and he sighs, pleased. Costis freezes with his hand inches from the panties, giving them a look flush with want.

“Don’t worry,” Irene says smoothly. “Whatever you want, you’ll get it if you’re patient.”

Costis lets out a breathless “ah” and looks down, his eyelashes sweeping across his cheeks. He’s blushing again, although Gen wonders if he ever really stopped. He leans against the bed to pull the panties up his legs, letting the elastic settle into place beneath his hipbones. He has to pull a little sharply to get them in place, but they still strain over his cock. Costis’s breath hitches on a whine, and next to Gen, Irene presses her legs together and sighs.

“Gorgeous,” she says, her voice low and dark. Costis brushes shaky fingertips against where the lace meets his skin.

“Oh,” he says, blinking like he’s coming out of a trance. “Oh, I— _oh_.” He reaches hurriedly for the first stocking, and Gen laughs, delighted by his eagerness.

“Careful,” he says, amused, “don’t fall.”

“I won’t,” Costis says crossly, and Gen is happy to see he’s still present enough to complain. His nervousness seems to be fading in the face of his own desire, which is good. As sweet as Costis looks when he’s flustered, that’s really not their end goal.

Gen smiles and just says, “Come up here when you’re done?”

Costis swallows and doesn’t look him in the eye, but he nods. The second stocking is almost all the way on. He finishes rolling it up his thigh and smooths a hand down to his knee, just feeling.

He turns and climbs up on the bed, moving up to the headboard. “Where do you want me?” he asks. Gen spreads his legs. “Right here.”

Costis turns around and settles with his back to Gen’s chest, Gen’s thighs framing his hips. “Good?” Gen asks, kissing the back of his neck.

Costis leans back into him. “Good.”

“All right.” Irene shifts so she’s in front of them. She lies down so she’s flat on the bed and pushes in between their legs.

“Here,” Gen says, and hooks Costis’s legs over his own, holding them open wider. Costis closes his eyes, head falling back on Gen’s shoulder. Back to overwhelmed, then. Perfect.

“Thank you,” Irene says, and leans in, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the bare skin in between the stockings and the panties. “You look incredible in these.”

Costis’s breath stutters. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Irene says.

“Like sin itself,” Gen agrees, tucking his thumb into the elastic top of the stockings. He pulls and lets it snap back. Irene laughs, but Gen feels the way Costis shivers. “What do you want?”

Costis shakes his head. “Whatever you want.”

“I want a lot of things,” Gen says. “You should tell me what you want.”

Costis has been mostly silent all night, holding his sounds back, but now he whimpers and turns his head into Gen’s shoulder. “Touch me, please. Please, please, just—” He cuts himself off and rocks forward ineffectually with a high noise in the back of his throat.

Gen looks down to see Irene pulling back, and a blooming mark on Costis’s thigh. “Looks like we’re already touching you quite a bit,” he teases.

“No, not like—not like that,” Costis says desperately.

“Like this, then?” Gen says, and bites at his neck, thumbing over his nipple at the same time. Costis cries out, gratifyingly loud.

“ _Please_.” He’s squirming, at this point, but his hands are immobile on the bedspread. Gods, they hadn’t even had to tell him. Gen feels his own control start to slip.

“Irene?” he asks, voice gone a little hoarse, and she gives him a half-smile.

“Fine,” she sighs, put-upon, but she can’t keep the curve from her lips. “If you must.”

He tries to project how much he loves her, and he must succeed because she blushes delicately and ducks her head.

(Even now, after all this time, it surprises her a little. It’s okay, though. Gen will keep telling her.)

Gen draws his unoccupied hand away from Costis’s hip, sliding it down, down, down toward the hem of the panties. He pulls them down just enough for Costis’s cock to spring free. “There you are,” he says soothingly, and strokes once, slowly and lightly, from root to tip.

Costis throws his head back. “ _Fuck_.”

“You’re shaking,” Gen says mildly, continuing with the tortuously slow pace. “Does it not feel good?”

“Gods, I hate you so much,” Costis pants, hips trying to jerk forward, but with the way his legs are spread, he has no leverage.

Gen pouts, even though he knows Costis can’t see him. “Rude,” he says. “Especially since I bought you such nice things.”

Irene clears her throat. “Actually, I think I bought them.”

“Ah, you’re right,” Gen says. “What am I here for, then?”

“You’re here,” Irene says, “because you have such a way with words.”

Gen hums. “True.”

“Go on.” Irene tangles her hand with his around Costis’s cock, uncoordinated and beautiful. “Tell our Costis how lovely he looks.”

“My pleasure,” Gen murmurs, letting her take over. He moves his hand away to grasp Costis’s wrists instead. He squeezes, and Costis gasps. “Give me a second first to just...look at you.”

Costis obligingly holds himself still. Gen breathes out heavily. “Fuck,” he says. “Just _look_ at you, sweetheart. You’re gorgeous.”

He is: silk encasing his legs, turning his strong calves and thighs into something delicate and beautiful. His panties are pulled taut under his cock. And in between, there’s that obscene sliver of bare golden skin, decorated with Irene’s mark. Gen sighs with pleasure and pushes it lightly with his thumb.

Costis groans and jerks into the touch. “Please,” he says, like he’s forgotten how to say anything else.

“Shh,” Gen says. “Let me tell you how good you look first. You look like a dream.”

Irene smiles encouragingly and continues her smooth, slow strokes. _Keep going_ , she mouths.

“You’re perfect,” Gen continues obediently, but gods, he means it too. “Do you like it? Looking so good for us?”

Costis lets out a choked moan. “ _Yes_ ,” he says desperately, “ _gods_ yes, I do.”

Gen’s grip tightens around Costis’s wrists, hips jerking forward despite himself. “Shit,” he mutters.

“Oh,” Costis says, pushing back against him. “Oh, please.”

Gen shakes his head. “Maybe next time,” he says. “I don’t think any of us have the patience for that right now.”

Costis cries out, as if Gen’s words reminded him how desperate he is. That, or Irene did something particularly pleasurable.

“Enough teasing, love?” Gen asks.

“ _Yes_ ,” Costis stresses, and Gen laughs, kissing his cheek.

“Wasn’t asking you, but I’ll take it into account.”

“Hmm,” Irene says. “Okay.”

“Yeah?”

She nods. “Yeah.”

Gen grins. “Okay,” he says, and holds Costis down just a little harder, right as Irene’s hand starts moving just a little faster.

Costis thrashes, coming with a wordless shout.

“There you are,” Irene says, as gentle as she can be. “We’ve got you.”

Gen gentles his grip, stroking his thumbs over Costis’s wrists. Costis sobs and trembles, curling in on himself. “Fuck,” he gasps.

“We’ve got you,” Gen repeats. “You’re good, you did so well. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Costis says, still breathing hard but no longer shaking. His eyes are a little wet, but they’re alert. “I’m good.”

“Let’s get these off you,” Irene says, and pulls each stocking off with the utmost care. She pulls the panties off next, and Costis tries to lift his hips to help, but collapses, exhausted.

“What about you?” he asks, voice hoarse. Gen reaches for the glass of water on the bedstand and hands it to Costis, who drinks gratefully.

“We’re fine,” Irene says. “Lie down, we can take care of each other.”

“But I want to make it good for you,” Costis says plaintively, and Irene kisses him quiet. He melts into immediately.

“You already did,” she says.

Costis settles down with his head on the pillow next to her hip. “Oh,” he says, like he’s finally starting to hear it, and closes his eyes. He’s asleep within a few minutes.

Gen exhales with feeling. “Okay,” he says, and shifts uncomfortably. Now that he’s not distracted by—other things, his own arousal takes over his attention. Irene looks at him, amused even while running her fingers through Costis’s hair.

“My turn?” he asks, and doesn’t really care if it comes out sounding embarrassingly needy. He’s been patient.

And Irene must agree, because she turns and pushes him back into the pillows, leaning over him with her hair falling around his face. Gen turns his face up for her kiss.

She smiles against his lips. “Your turn.”

**Author's Note:**

> GOODBYE WORLD


End file.
